


All Tomorrows Come From Yesterdays

by A_Kid_Named_Hiro



Series: MadaTobi Week [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 05:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18462251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kid_Named_Hiro/pseuds/A_Kid_Named_Hiro
Summary: Sequel toMiles.Prompt:Time travel(fromMadaTobi Week 2018).





	All Tomorrows Come From Yesterdays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tuliharja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuliharja/gifts).



> Sequel to **[Miles.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14122893/chapters/34429080#workskin)**
> 
> Prompt: _Time travel_ (from **[MadaTobi Week 2018](https://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/post/174594542851/madatobi-week-2018-prompts)** ).

You don't think about it much these days. Your past. The horrors of it.

Here's how it works. You try to pretend you aren't running away and maybe you feel a little saner, a little safer, a little more like you belong in your own skin.

This ruined skin that screams weakness. That speaks of survival. This skin that _he_ calls beautiful.

Tobirama is an aberrant man. He looks at you and does not flinch. No pity in his gaze. His touch is always gentle, unpatronizing.

Tobirama is a wonder.

You think this, beneath the darkness of endless sky. The rooftop of his BMW is cold, even through the fabric of your frayed jeans. Tobirama is warm.

Darkness for miles. Ash from your cigarette, scuff marks from your sneakers, upon the roof of his expensive car. How bizarre it all is. That you would be here, in the biting cold, in the middle of nowhere, feeling more at home than you've ever felt in your life.

Tobirama's arm around you. His body against yours. You rest your head against his neck and breathe him in. He smells like comfort. Like freedom. Like _hope._

You want to say, "I wish I could travel back in time and meet you sooner."

But you don't.

Because you can't fix the past. You can't change this half-vision that makes you feel like less than half a person. This disfigured thing that will never measure up, never be enough for Tobirama, with his fancy car and his fancy cigarettes and his flawless body, his unfractured heart.

You can't change the past, but maybe you can keep chasing this freedom. Pray that it lasts.

Tobirama's kiss upon your head. You look up at him, at his eyes, fire-bright like the end of your cigarette. You look at him and see your future.


End file.
